A Very Harry Christmas
by Schlongs and Padfood
Summary: What do you get when you put together literary wonders, a religious miracle and two insane teenagers? ... A Very Harry Christmas. Featuring Drunken!Voldemort in 'Two Months Before Christmas' and OldMiser!Snape in 'A Christmas Carol'.
1. Introduction

A Very Harry Christmas 

Authors Notes  
_  
For decades there's been stories of men and of mice_

_Who've all found Christmas quite cozy and nice _

But one horrendous day, two young girls met.

And there have never been scarier people yet.

_These girls, they were bored and yet easily amused_

_Together their minds spawned a terrifying muse_

We call our muse Webster, but no matter, it's all the same.

Don't show your mother this story, it will cause you shame.

_So we gathered some books and some songs and some poems_

_To make stories more horribly horrendous than gnomes_

With perverted visions dancing wildly in our heads,

Such as "Who is this 'Santa'? Does he look good in dreads?"

_We took to writing - a scary feat, indeed!_

_For parodies, we figured, what talent do you need?_

And we leave you with this, no more shall we say

Please send us money! And have a good day!

   
Author's Notes ver. Kali: Hello! Welcome to **A**** Very Harry Christmas. Here, in true literary style, we are showcasing no, not one!, but several Christmas stories in true Harry Potter fashion. Each Chapter is a new song or story that is know all through the land of gumdrops and other such things - only different. Some of the chapters are written as song parodies, some are written as stories.  
  
This fic will jump all over the map, generation wise, and cover various different events, or just steal the plot of some great Christmas story. It's a work-in-progress, but since it has no general plot, there is no guarantee how many chapters it will have or when it will be over. We're very flakey about that.  
  
Lexi's Author's NotesTM: Rahaha. Well, Kali already explained everything for me, so my work here is done. She's the brains. I'm the..............and.........that's what. If you have any suggestions/requests, then feel free to suggest and/or request them. Happy Holidays! Merry Christmas! Happy Hanukah! I didn't spell that right! Joyous Kwanzaa! Feliz Navidad!  
  
Disclaimer: We do not own Harry Potter or anything else we make fun of in here, for that matter. However, if you steal our ideas, we will beat you senseless, you crazy wanker.**


	2. Twas Two Months Before Christmas

A Very Harry Christmas Chapter Two: _T'was__ Two Months Before Christmas.  
  
AN: This poem can be found in its original context at and was originally written by Henry Livingston Jr. I do not own Harry Potter, this poem, or Microsoft. Unfortunately.  
  
Warning: The author(s) is/are not responsible for any brain damage caused by the lack of rhyming or wit in this chapter.  
  
ANOTHER Irritating Note: This is James' POV ^~ And on with the show.  
  
_T'was___ two months before Christmas, and all through the house_

_Not a creature was dying, not even a mouse;_

_The wards were all placed on the doors with great care;_

_In hopes that Ol' Voldie would not find them there.___

_Harry was nestled all snug in his bed,_

_While visions of bacon danced in his head;_

_And mama in the kitchen, cooking a duck;_

_And me getting ready for a nice winter fuck_

_When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,_

_I sprang from the bedroom to see what was the matter._

_Away to the window I flew like a flash,_

_Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash._

_The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow_

_Gave the luster of mid-day to objects below,_

_When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,_

_But the dark lord, and an empty 6-pack of beer.___

_His looked a bit drunken, not lively or quick,_

_I knew in a moment that he must be sick._

_More rapid than raptors his vomit it came,_

_And he retched, and screeched, and shouted profanities!_

_"Now, WANKER!__ now, BASTARD! now, CRACKWHORE and STENCH!_

_On, ASSCLOWN! on, SLUT! on, BITCH and on, WENCH!_

_To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!_

_I'm going to kill them, HAHA. Kill them all!"_

_As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,_

_When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,_

_And up to the house-top Ol' Voldie he flew,_

_With Satan on his arm, and good old Death, too.___

_I cried out to Lily and told her to run,_

_I would face Voldie to save her and our son;_

_She kissed me goodbye and it was very sad,_

_She was the best lay that I had ever had._

_And then, in a twinkling, I heard, by chance_

_The prancing and giggling as he did a dance.___

_As I began to run, and was turning around,_

_Down the chimney Voldie came with a bound._

_He was dressed all in black velvet, from his head to his foot,_

_And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;_

_A spell trapping us inside he placed on the door,_

_And he looked like a pimp just selling his whore._

_His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!_

_His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!_

_His sharp little fangs made him look rather queer,_

_They were all the better to eat you with, my dear._

_A stick of a wand he held in his grasp,_

_He said he would kill me, I let out a gasp;_

_I pulled out my wand and dueled him, quite proudly,_

_It was over when he shouted "Petrificus totalus!" loudly._

_He was stupid, evilly so, a big ugly elf,_

_And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;_

_A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,_

_Soon let me know that I now was dead._

_He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,_

_And killed my poor Lily; then turned with a jerk,_

_And sticking his finger inside of his nose,_

_And giving a nod, upstairs to Harry he rose;_

_I'm sure you know what happened after this,_

_So you won't mind if this part I miss._

_I am too stupid to make that part rhyme,_

_I'm running out of brain cells and time-_

_Hahahha__, it is FUNNY because it is TRUE;_

_Though I'm sure you wouldn't laugh if it happened to you._

_A rather large man came, Hagrid was his name,_

_He was rescuing Harry, and it was not a game;_

_He would take him to live with his uncle and aunt,_

_For the plot of the books, live with Sirius he can't._

_Hagrid__ sprang to his motorcycle, and the radio gave a whistle,_

_And away he now flew like the down of a thistle._

_But the neighbors heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,_

_"I SURE NEED SOME BOOZE. WHAT A SHITTY NIGHT!"_

THE END.  
  
Note: Any similarities to real persons, places, or happenings is purely coincidental. But I will still laugh at it. Hahaha.


	3. A Christmas Carol' I: Attack of the Mall...

A Very Harry Christmas

_Chapter One: A Christmas Carol_

Note: I'm not smart enough to come up with this shit on my own. _A Christmas Carol is Dickens' idea._

            There was not a holiday around Severus Snape detested more than Christmas. It was absolutely despicable. The way the Great Hall was so defaced with baubles and holly and mistletoe and garland… shameful, really. Those Gryffindor prats seemed to each think they _were Jesus, the know-it-all Ravenclaws acted as though they were descended from the wise men themselves, and the Hufflepuffs were no better than common shepherds. _

            Everyone was singing. Not even pleasant, parodying versions of songs that involved snow turning red. Everything was innocent, and those goddamned first years were waiting with wide eyes the arrival of Santy Clause.

            Severus _hated Christmas, and it was apparent from his scowl as the Slytherin male trudged his way down the hallways. It was the sort of scowl that turned milk sour and terrified innocent children, not to mention the sort of scowl that resembled Michael Jackson, but at the moment Severus really didn't care. Christmas was a fool's holiday, and anyone should be able to see that from the fools celebrating it._

            Speaking of fools…

            "You look like you're having a peachy time, Snivellus."  
  
            That _dreaded voice. While all the Gryffindorks were acting rather like the reincarnation of the son of God, James Potter did it _all _the time. Oh, how tempting it was to gore his eyes out with the fake antlers placed atop his irritatingly scruffy head…_

            Well-wishes aside, Snape turned the scowl on the long-since nemesis.

            "Isn't there some mudbloods beneath mistletoe you should be molesting, Potter?" 

            The arrogant smirk turned colder. "What is it, Snivvy? Heart two sizes too small to enjoy the holidays?"  
  
            "Rather I think my brain's just two sizes too _big._"  
  
            "Now, now," came another voice, whom Severus noted with great distaste belonged to none other than Sirius Black, "if anything's two sizes too big, Jamie, it's his nose." 

            "Point taken," James agreed with a look of feigned concentration as he nodded.  
  
            Severus was spared from perhaps infinite taunting, however, as the only person to ever come to his defense did what she did best; come to his defense. 

            "James! Sirius!" the girl chided, tossing some of her rather festive hair over her shoulder. "I'm sure he'll have a much more pleasant Christmas _without the two of you." _

            To this Severus rolled his eyes. The concept of a happy Christmas, with or without Black and Potter, was quite far from his grasp, really. He didn't want one. A happy Christmas entailed turkey and festivities and lights and trees; if anything Severus wanted to move away from it all. Christmas – a waste of time!   
  
            "Aw, Lily," James objected, plastering on an innocent smile. "We were merely trying to get Severus in the Christmas spirit!"  
  
            Severus had fallen silent by this time, eyes rolling heavenward as he turned to leave. Best to slink away while mildly unharmed before letting them attack a corpse and poke out it's eyeballs. It would seem, however, that fate was not that kind to Severus.  
  
            "You're in the Christmas spirit, aren't you, Severus?" Lily asked. 

            Severus stared at her incredulously.  
  
            "If you're asking whether I'm frolicking around like a regular idiot, singing carols at the top of my lungs or stuffing stockings, then no, I'd have to say I'm not."  
  
            To this, Lily looked mildly surprised. James rolled his eyes – the reaction had been anticipated. Sirius shook his head.  
  
            "Surely you don't have anything against the holiday?"  
  


            Honestly, that girl could be thick. And so Severus put it the best way he could think of:  
  
            "Bah humbug."  
  


--- 

            It was Christmas Eve already, as much a Severus hated to admit it. Christmas Eve meant Christmas _morning _which meant all that insanity he so abhorred. The noise, noise, noise, noise! Okay, wrong parody.

            And so he was sleeping alone in his Slytherin like dorm, because all the other Slytherins in seventh year with him had gone home for the holidays. He wasn't sure what was better; spending Christmas at home with his grandmother fretting and rocking in her chair incessantly or spending Christmas at school with Dumbledore being just as bad, not to mention the first years.

            But here he was, and so he fully intended to get some sleep. 

            Unfortunately for Snape, though, the deities had other ideas. It was probably only twelve that night when someone began calling his name.  
  
            "Snape?"  
  
            Severus, of course, being asleep, did not respond.  
  
            "Snape?" tried the voice again.

            And Severus slept on.  
  
            "Snape? For the love of god, man, wake up!"  
  
            Still he slept. 

            A large cowbell connected with the side of Severus Snape's head, causing him to sit upright in the bed suddenly.  
  
            "What? What the hell?"  
  
            "It's about bloody time!" complained the disembodied voice.  
  
            "…Pettigrew? Is that you?"  
  
            "Er, no."  
  
            "But it sounds just like—"  
  
            "Shut up!" cried the voice, clearly displeased. "You're ruining the spooky affect. Spooky. Spoooky."

            "What the fuck, Pettigrew? Can you just—"  
  
            "I am not Pettigrew!" the voice insisted, wavering in an obvious attempt to appear mysterious. "Do not question me! I am simply here to inform you that tonight you will be visited by…" the voice paused for a second, "…three! Yes, that's it, I forgot, Remus' at home. Three! Ghosts."  
  
            "Three ghosts? Remus' at home? What the—"  
  
            "Each one will appear at the sound of a bell, and each one has a very valuable lesson to teach you, Snape, so watch carefully," the voice insisted, sounding firmer now. "Now, I seem to have misplaced my cowbell."  
  
            Severus glanced at the cowbell on his lap and rubbed the welt on the side of his head. "You threw it at me, you prat!"  
  
            "Oh, so I did," came the voice. "Well, would you mind ringing it for me?"  
  
            "I don't see how—"  
  
            "Do it!"  
  
            And so Severus run the bell. There was no immediate rush of wind. No climatic music or sudden thrill of adrenaline, or anything in general.

            Until something blunt and heavy hit Severus over the back of the head and he was knocked out.

--

            When Severus awoke once more he was quite sure he was not  in the dorms any longer. Where he was, he was not entirely sure – but wherever it was it was cold, snowy, and he was outside.

            Damnit.

            "Get up!" came a gruff voice from behind him, and a sharp kick in the back. "Get up, damnit!"

            With a groan Severus rolled onto his back only to find himself staring up at a most peculiarly outfitted being. He was dressed in cloaks of all white – if it were not for the tanned complexion, the dark black hair and rather handsome appearance, Severus may have wondered briefly if it were infact Jesus, or perhaps an Elvis wannabe. In truth, Severus thought, it rather resembled Sirius Black meets Jesus Christ meets Elvis Presley meets Madonna. 

            Don't ask how Madonna fit in there.

            "Black? What the hell? First Pettigrew, now you? What the hell do the lot of you—"  
  
            "Shut up, Cinderblock!" the figure barked sharply, kicking out at the Slytherin who rolled out of the way. "I kindly ask you _not to refer to me as 'black', you psychotic racist."  
  
            "But—"  
  
            "Shut up! __I'm running the show here, after all, __I'm…"  
  
            "Yes, who exactly __are you?"  
  
            "The Ghost of Christmas Past." _

            There was an entire beat during which Severus simply stared at the other incredulously.

            Before bursting out laughing.  
  
            "Amusing, Black, really, top marks for your creativity and the get-up, which by the way makes you vaguely resemble Jesus, but—"  
  
            "Do you ever shut up? Don't make me flex my demi-god-like skills!"

            Severus persisted.  
  
            "For one thing, Black, there are _real _ghosts, and you certainly aren't—"  
  
            And then, quite suddenly, Severus was backed up against the wall of the closest building, with the 'Ghost of Christmas Past's hands clenched around his cloak collar.

            "Listen," the white-swathed figure hissed, "I _am_ the Ghost of Christmas Past and if you say otherwise I will beat your Scrooge-like _ass _so shut the hell up." 

            Now that, children, is spreading Christmas cheer. 

            Perhaps it was years of experience that made Severus decide not to question Christmas Past this time; perhaps it was because his wand was back in the dormitories, wherever that might be, and Christmas Past was much larger than him.   
  
            "Alright then, _Ghost of Christmas Past," Snape hissed with well hidden sarcasm, "What would you __like me to call you? I'm afraid 'Ghost of Christmas Past' is rather tiresome."  
  
            Releasing his grip on the Slytherin, the man in white took on a pensive look.  
  
            "Call me… Archibald."_

            Severus shook his head, although Archibald looked rather proud of himself. Straightening, Archibald took hold of Severus' collar once more in order to lead him down the street.  
  
            "So, Sevvie, any of this ring a bell?"  
  
            "No."  
  
            In truth it did. The only thing mildly unnerving about any of this was the fact that the street they were on currently resembled the one where Severus' house had been – when he was five. It was coincidence, he decided; how would Sir—er, Archibald, know where he'd lived as a kid? Sharing 'fond' childhood memories wasn't something Severus did, well, ever.

            "Then I suppose _this _won't look familiar?"  
  
            And suddenly Severus found his face pressed up against a pane of glass, pain shooting through his unusually long, uncomfortably bent nose. 

            Inside the house at which he was gazing, however, things were more interesting. There was a large, tall Christmas tree in the corner of the room; it was decorated most elaborately, and as they watched it seemed the woman present was adding to the decorations. A rather severe looking and markedly old man sat in a rocking chair in the corner, eyeing the woman with something of distaste as she strung more popcorn onto the tree.

            And in the corner was  a five-year-old Severus Snape, ramming two toy trains together destructively.  
  
            "Awww! You were even ugly as a kid!" 

            To this Snape glared for a moment, although he found his attention was focused keenly on the people in the room once more. It was like watching a pensive, he thought suddenly. He suddenly doubted that if he were to beat on the window as hard as possible the people inside – his family – would notice. 

            Weird. It was like watching a muggle movie.  
  
            "Closer look!" Archibald announced, grabbing Severus' collar once more and dragging him towards the front door.  
  
            "We're not going in there!" Severus objected, although it was in vain as the next second he was thrust through the door by Archibald, and found himself in something of a heap in the hallway.  Archibald stepped over him and into the house, and as Severus collected himself once more and rose to his feet, Archibald beckoned for him to follow.

            "Laerenev!" called the woman suddenly, not halting her decorating. "I think I'm going to take Poopsie—"  
  
            Insert snort from Archibald here.  
  
            "—to the mall to see Santa, alright?"  
  


            There was an indistinct grunt from Laerenev.   
  
            "I don't trust those mall Santa's, Sepreh," the man chortled. "They're all pedophiles."  
  
            "Larry!"  
  
            "It's true, Sepreh. You don't know who you can trust nowadays… Severus will be much happier if he spends Christmas eve at his own house."

            It was clear Sepreh Snape was not the type of person who took no for an answer. By the time Laerenev had finished his speech the woman had risen, taken five-year-old Severus' little hand in her own and was leading him to the coat rack.

            "We aren't following them," seventeen year old Severus informed suddenly, sending a sharp glance in Archibald's direction.  
  
            "Oh, I beg to differ," Archibald countered, grinning as he made to follow Sepreh and the toddler out the door.  
  
            "No. Absolutely not."  
  
            Archibald sent Severus a curious glance, as if he was mildly surprised the boy dared question his mighty authority. Outside, Sepreh and Poopsie were beginning to sing Christmas carols. From the look of abhorrence on the elder Severus' face, and the merry sound in the younger one's voice, it would have been challenging to place them as the same person.

            "We're following them, _Poopsie__, whether you like it or not."  
  
            And suddenly Severus was being dragged down the driveway to follow his five year old self.   
            _

--

            _Severus trailed after his mother, stumbling along in the crowds to keep his hand firmly interlocked with hers. Christmas meant so many people… Severus wasn't quite sure what to think. There were people everywhere, now. Why were stores open? It was Christmas Eve. Everyone wanted to make that last dollar that badly? _

_            People had bags and little, crying children, but Severus pretended not to notice. He pretended not to notice as that large woman stepped on his foot and didn't say sorry or as that little girl next to him cut in front of he and his mom in the line to see Santa. He didn't care. He wanted to see Santa. He'd been a good boy._

_            He wondered why Santa was at the mall when he must have had so much work to do. Traveling the world by floo powder would take a while, let alone on a sleigh drawn by flying reindeer. _

_            "Remember to tell Santa what you want," Severus' mum advised, grinning. "I don't think it'll be too late for any last minute changes."  
  
_

_            A few minutes of waiting in line and Severus found himself on Santa's lap. _

_            "Hello, little boy!" proclaimed Santa. Severus noted he lacked the standard British accent, and sounded rather Hispanic. "What would you like for Christmas?"_

_            Severus brightened instantly, clearly having sunk a lot of thought into this in the past. "A pony!" he proclaimed brightly, and the eight year old boy next in line raised an eyebrow. "A pony, and a choo-choo train, and world peace!" _

_  
            Santa nodded distractedly, patting Severus on the head. "Right. One leather whip it is. Now go home!" _

_            Obediently, Severus slipped off Santa's lap, slipped his hand into his mother's once again, and the two of them were on their way._

_            Snow was falling peacefully, dusting the ground and outside scenery with a lovely splash of white. It was like a picture-perfect Christmas Eve, really, everything falling conveniently into place. If only it were black and white, it may well have fit into **It's a Wonderful Life. **_

_            Severus and his mother were walking to the car when Severus noticed something moving behind the dumpster.   
  
            "Mum! Mummy, look, it's Santa!"  
            _

_            Indeed it was. The Santa from the mall was behind the dumpster, and upon being spotted he shoved a plastic baggie into one pocket quickly. _

_            "Santa!" exclaimed Severus.  
  
            "Poopsie, don't go see—Severus!"  
  
            And so his mother was chasing after him. Upon spotting Severus' mother, Santa took on a look quite foreign to large, friendly Hispanic men in red velvet – it was a look of sheer malice. With surprising speed for Father Christmas, the Santa reached past Severus' head, grabbed his mother's wrist and dragged her sharply forward._

_            Severus' innocent, child-like eyes only widened in horror._

_--_

            "Aww!" declared Archibald at the end of the flashback, as suddenly the scene seemed to vanish from around he and the elder Severus. Severus looked simply murderous.  
  
            "Now you see why you loved Christmas, don't you?" asked Archibald as he raised both eyebrows and nodded in  a very 'told you so' way. 

            "No!" Severus exclaimed loudly. "I most certainly don't! I watched my mother be raped behind a dumpster by a Mall Santa then beaten to death with a Christmas Tree from the trash! It was horrible!"  
  
            Archibald simply shrugged.  
  
            "Hey, well, whatever. I tried. There's still two ghosts to go."  
  
            And with a snap of his fingers, he and the past-scene were gone, and Severus was suddenly in the Slytherin boy's dormitories once more.

_To Be Continued! _


	4. A Christmas Carol II: The Hillbilly Mena...

A Very Harry Christmas

Chapter 2 ½ : 

            A most disgruntled Severus sat on his bed in the Slytherin Boy's dormitory, wondering what the point of that forsaken experience had been.

            It proved nothing. It further instilled why he hated Christmas, the whole Christmas season! Please don't ask why, we just showed you the reason. With bitter thoughts towards Archibald he flopped backwards onto his bed, glaring at nothing in particular.

            The first of three, had he been? Psh. Severus would be careful not to be knocked out this time. Deal with that, 'ghosts'. Ha. Ghosts his ass – he'd seen real ghosts. Archibald had been no ghost. Mind you, he couldn't explain the flashback-ness of it all, but that was beyond the point. Stupid prat had obviously worked _something out._

            He sat there contemplating it all for a moment, wishing irritably for some sleep at long last as he rolled over.   
  
            It was then he saw some mistletoe plummet from above. Why was mistletoe in the boy's dorms, he wondered? It was obviously the homosexual antics of his peers. He would have further disregarded the event if the mistletoe hadn't had a little bell attached to the bottom of it, 'festively'.

            The bell, upon hitting the floor, rang with a _ting! _

            Okay. It was just a bell. No need to over react. He was probably dreaming, anyway. I mean, honestly, the Ghost of Christmas Past? This was Hogwarts, not something out of a fiction novel. Archibald and the flashback were probably a mix of loathing for Christmas and bad tacos he'd eaten for dinner.

            Unable to shake the uneasy feeling, Severus glanced around. All seemed well with the dorm, really. He decided he wasn't going to get any sleep and rose from his bed, ambling towards the stairs to the Slytherin Common Room.

            A noise behind him made him pause, and he glanced over his shoulder.

            The sight made him do a double take.

            There, in his bed, was … him? Can we spell 'wtf'? He opened his mouth to say something – anything, really – but found himself mouthing wordlessly for a long while. A choked gasp was all that came out.

            "Surprised?" came a voice from behind him.

            With a yelp Severus leapt around to face the source of the voice – which, apparent from its feminine tone, did _not _belong in the boy's dorms. 

            The speaker was, indeed, quite obviously feminine. She was clad in what seemed to be only undergarments – a white and rather lacey bra, accompanied by a knee-length white silken slip. For a short moment Severus simply stared at her rather hot bod before he forced his eyes to meet her face.

            Her deep red hair was to the side in buns worthy of Princess Leia and her startlingly green eyes were outlined in a most hideous of orange eyeliners.  
  
            It was quite obviously Lily Evans.

            "Evans?" Severus mused, eyebrows quirking up.   
  
            "Surely Archibald told you there'd be a second ghost?" the girl replied, showing little sign of having heard him in the first place before she flicked two slender fingers in a 'follow me' motion and headed down the stairs. Like any sane male would, Severus followed the half-dressed female.

            "Archibald did mention that, I believe. Do you care to explain why I just saw myself lying in bed?"  
  
            The girl glanced back at him and smiled, continuing on her way down the stairs – she was leaving the common room, now, heading out into the hall.  
  
            "Oh, that," she answered. "Well, that is because you _are _sleeping… well, sort of. To the rest of the world you are!"  
  
            "But I'm not sleeping," Severus protested, arching an eyebrow. "I'm talking to you, aren't I?"  
  
            "I'm just a ghost," the girl replied with a swift wink. "_The _Ghost, in fact, of Christmas Present."  
  
            This was just getting pathetic. With a roll of his eyes Severus stopped walking, folding his arms across his chest.  
  
            "I'm sure you are, Evans. And I'm _Scrooged._" 

            "Holly," the girl called absently, grabbing one of Severus' arms and continuing on with her stride.  
  
            "Mistletoe," he muttered, wrenching his arm from her despicable grip.

            "No. I mean, I'm Holly. Call me Holly."  
  
            _Better than Archibald… "Fine," he agreed. "Now where the hell are we going?"_

            "Wait and see," was the illusive reply before two slender digits snapped against each other and the Hogwarts castle faded.

--

            Next thing Severus knew they were outside again. It was cold, snowing lightly, and he couldn't help but wonder how Holly was managing, considering her apparel. Actually, from the way she folded her arms across her chest, he guessed she wasn't.

  
            "Why are you wearing that, anyway?" asked Severus.  
  
            "I was supposed to wear a toga, but the male ghosts stole it."  
  
            Severus merely nodded.  

            "And now," Holly began, gesturing suddenly behind the pair of them, "I ask you to turn your attention to the window behind us."  
  
            Severus did as he was told, glad that Holly was not using as much physical force as Archibald had. Peering in the window, he saw what looked like a postcard-perfect Christmas.

            The table was long and sat about sixteen people, all of whom were dressed up elaborately. At the centre of the table was a large turkey, golden and lustrous and decked out with all the trimming. To one end of the table Severus could see the other standard Christmas foods – gingerbread houses so ornately decorated it was incredible, short-bread cookies, fruit cakes no one would touch… the usual. To the other end of the table, various forms of roasts and wines, cheeses, breads, cranberry juices… you name it.

            Above the centre-piece of the table hung a sprig of mistletoe. The various people were mingling around the house. A large Christmas tree was visible in the corner, refined in decoration and trimming. Most of the people appeared unfamiliar to Severus – until he spotted Lucius Malfoy snogging Narcissa Black beneath some mistletoe in a corner.  
  
            Severus barely had time to raise an eyebrow before he noticed Holly's red hair to his right and realized she was looking in the window too.

            "You think the _Malfoys_ are going to make me reform?" he asked incredulously. 

  
            "Oh, shit! Wrong house!"  
  
            She stuck one arm into the air and snapped her fingers one more.

-- 

            When Severus could see again he found that he and Holly were no longer on the Malfoy's elaborate front porch. Rather, he found himself staring at a most dilapidated looking house, with a rickety front porch and a rather lopsided looking roof.  
  
            The place looked ready to fall over. Holly made a move towards it and Severus wondered for a moment if that was a good idea. It looked as though any sudden movement might cause it to implode. It was hard to believe, really, that anyone could live there and not have several chronic diseases.

            "Who lives _here? The Jackson Five?" _

            Holly sent him a sharp look, reaching to grab him by the arm again as she dragged him towards the house and through the front door. 

            Following her reluctantly inside, he saw an instant difference from Malfoy Manor. The halls were not nearly as decked, although a string of falling-apart garland that may well have been poison ivy was hung up the railing of the rickety, not trust worthy stairs. She dragged him into the living room – which really sounded like a misnomer – and the first thing that caught his eye was the tree.

            Honestly, it was like something straight out of Charlie Brown's Christmas. The star made it look top-heavy and ready to fall over and it looked as if it had never had half as many needles it should have. 

            The second thing that caught his eye was that, not too far from the Christmas tree, in the corner of the room, there sat seventeen year old Remus Lupin, chin cupped in his hand. 

            His clothes had always been shabby – that was nothing new. In truth he usually stood out amongst the prim and proper attire his friends always had – especially considering two thirds of them were better off than the average person, let alone a poor (literally) angst-and/or-disease-ridden werewolf. There was no typical grin on his face and Severus noted that Remus looked rather sickly, although it was hard to tell whether that was a result of lycanthropy or whatever cooking had been done in the old house. 

            "This is _Lupin's house?" Severus asked incredulously, glancing at Holly for a brief moment. The girl merely nodded.  
  
            "Yes. Expecting a five-storey mansion, were you?"  
  
            "Well, no," Severus objected, "But I –"  
  
            "Remus!" came a foreign voice, causing both Severus and Holly to fall silent. _

            The two of them turned to see a woman, probably barely five feet in height, who looked dreadfully thin. Actually, Severus reflected, she looked as though she was _suddenly very thin and at one point would have weighed more than a rhinoceros. She looked rather as if she hadn't showered in X number of days, and next to her, Remus looked __healthy. _

            It was rather sad, actually.

            "Yer aunt's here," the woman continued, and Severus thought he saw Remus flinch at the mention of his aunt. "You's best help her with her luggage. Go'on, now, boy! Git!"  
  


            Obediently Remus rose from his seat, drifted past Holly and Severus – obviously oblivious to their presence – and headed towards the door. Severus was surprised to find that, when Holly leaned backwards to get a better look, he had done so already – without her having to force him.   
            

            Remus swung the door open and there, taking up the entire doorway and perhaps more, was an impossibly large woman. 

            "Howdy, thar', boy!" the woman greeted, instantly enveloping Remus' lanky frame into a no doubt back-breaking hug.

            "Hello… Aunt… Ruth…" the werewolf choked out, hands sticking out oddly as his vertebrae was crushed. 

            Releasing her grip, Aunt Ruth held the boy at an arm's length to examine him.

            "You's lookin' like shit," she informed, and Remus blinked in a rather indifferent manner. Dropping her manly hands from his shoulder she shoved her way into the house. She handed him her luggage, which was stereotypically cartoon-like, being as it was a handkerchief tied to the end of a stick. And then she called out for her children.  
  
            "CHILLUNS! GET IN THE HOUSE, LOT OF YE'! CAREFUL, NOW, DON'T STEP ON ANY RATS, WE CAN EAT THEM LATER!" 

            Remus flatted himself against the wall at the surge of children, for once thankful to be unhealthily thin. "Yessum, Ma! Should I git that thar badger outta th'road?" he heard one of the kids cry before Aunt Ruth nodded. Quite possibly the only single child in his entire extended family, Remus blinked and watched as about seven kids flooded in, ages ranging from ten to four. 

            The youngest, a little girl named Ellie Mae, stumbled on the step to the doorway and fell flat on her face.  
  
            Frowning, Remus abandoned the luggage and knelt down next to her. "Watch it," he advised softly, grabbing her shoulders gently to lift her back to her feet. "Our floor's not exactly even." Patting her ratty blonde head as she sniffed and wiped her eyes on her sleeve, Remus grinned.   
  
            "There," he said, "All bet—"  
  
            He broke off at the look on the girl's face as she suddenly realized _who _had just helped her up.

            "AIIEE! FREAK! DON'T TOUCH ME!" she screeched as loud as a four year old can screech before tearing off down the hallway after her siblings.   
  
            Remus simply stared after her, silent for a moment, before sighing and rising to his feet. 

            "What was _that?" Severus asked as Remus turned into another room to ditch the luggage.  Holly shrugged.  
  
            "What do you mean?"_

            Severus turned to stare at her as if she were thick. "I _mean what the hell is with that kid?"_

            "Doesn't like werewolves?" Holly suggested with a half-shrug.  
  
            "Isn't he her cousin?"  
  
            "Yes. Point being?"  
  
            Severus blinked at this for a moment before shrugging. 

            Ten or so minutes later, Severus and Holly were watching the Lupins in what one could only guess was their typical holiday routine. Aunt Ruth and her husband, Julio, were dancing most obnoxiously in a corner. Remus' parents were off scavenging for food, and the children were all gathered playing 'pin the tail back on the dead badger'. Remus, it seemed, was the only one not having barrels of monkeys of fun. The sickly seventeen year old was once more in his reclusive corner, looking rather forlorn as he read a book titled _Your Christmas Must Suck.  _

            Now bored with the text, mind you, and further wishing to creep into his own little world, Remus began singing, however softly, the first song that came to mind.

            "_Tiptoe through the window,  
By the window, _

_That is where I'll be_

_Come tiptoe through the tulips with me._

_Oh, tiptoe from the garden, _

_By the garden of the willow tree,   
And tiptoe through the tulips with –"  
  
            _"Shut yer pie hole, Half-breed!" called one of the elder of the cousins, and suddenly a rather mangled road kill badger connected with Remus' face. Beside Severus, Holly sniffed. Severus himself stifled a snicker. Holly beamed him over the head with one of her fists.  
  
            "Oh, come now," Severus objected. "You have to admit that was funny."  
  
            "Oh, it was," Holly countered, glaring at him now. "Just about as funny as you hanging upside down with your knickers for all to see."  
  
            Somehow that made Severus much more empathetic. 

            Remus recoiled from the road kill in disgust, shoving it off him without so much as a word before returning to his book in silence. Severus noticed that, as he so often did, Remus wasn't _actually _reading, as his eyes were staring fixedly at one spot. For a brief, most horrid moment, Severus feared the boy was going to cry, which would not only be awkward it would be fucking _hilarious _and Holly might castrate him or something. But Remus did no such thing, though his fingers curled around the edge of the book a bit tighter than perhaps they normally would have.

            The road kill badger skidded onto the ground and into the wall.   
  
            "Watch 'eet!" chastied Aunt Ruth from the corner, "D'yous wanna eat tonight or not?"  
  
            "They're going to eat that?" Severus yelped indignatly. Holly raised an eyebrow.  
  
            "Well, did you expect a turkey dinner?"  
  
            "It's a dead badger!"  
  
            "Mmm mmm good."  
  
            Severus made a face and glanced over at Remus' cousins. They were currently deep in a game of duck duck goose – only they were saying _badger mushroom snake. _  
  
            "It's a badger badger badger badger badger badger badger badger – snake! A snake! Oooh, it's a snake!"

            And then Ellie Mae ran around the circle while being chased by a child named Cinderblock. 

            Severus blinked. Damn, and he thought Lupin (_Remus, _he amended internally, _in a room full of Lupins that doesn't work._) was bad, what with lycanthropy and all. Werewolf or not, the rest of these people were just plain _stupid.   
  
            "Damn, those kids make Lupin look like a child prodigy."_

            Severus was saved from having to pity Remus when, suddenly, the boy's parents stormed in. Remus' father, Severus realized at the arrival of the man, was apparently whom Remus resembled the most, at probably 6'2, although the fact he was missing several teeth and had a patch over one eye sort of took away any concept of 'like-father like-son'. 

            "I found us some bird droppin's!" Mr. Lupin cried dramatically, waving a few leaves around. 

            "Kinnae have one, mum?" asked another one of Ruth's kids, tugging on one of her fat rolls expectantly.  
  
            "Keep quiet!" Aunt Ruth replied sharply. "They's for the soup, ain't that right, Lulu Bell?"

            Lulu Bell, who was, apparently, Remus' mother, nodded fervently. She and her husband headed towards the kitchen, the rest of the Lupins in tow, apart from Remus, who hung around in his original place. 

            _Merlin. It's a sad day when a werewolf is the smartest person in the room, thought Severus as he arched an eyebrow._

            Alone in the room once more, Remus flipped to the back of _Your Christmas Must Suck! and produced three pieces of parchment, closing the book and using its hard cover as a table of sorts. He reached over the badger to produce a quill and fountain of ink Severus had never noticed before, dipping the nib in the ink once before beginning to scrawl across the parchment once more._

            Holly let out a noise surprisingly close to a croon. Severus sent her a glance and raised an eyebrow.

            "Oh, how adorable. He's probably writing a suicide note. I know I would be."  
  
            Holly glared once more. "He is not," she snapped, and for the thousandth time she grabbed his hand and dragged him to peer over Remus' shoulder.

            A suicide note it was not. The two bottom pieces of parchment were slightly adjacent the top one, and towards the top of one was _Dear Wormtail, _on another _Dear Padfoot _and on the most current one he was just adding the curve of the s to _Dear Prongs. _

            Severus raised an eyebrow. Personalized suicide notes? Maybe he was writing his will.

            _Dear Prongs (Ironic, isn't it?), Remus was writing, quill scratching across the surface of the parchment expertly. __Happy Christmas! How are things at Hogwarts? Things here are… well, they're how they always are with family, I suppose. There's never a dull moment, really. The kids seem to be having fun with their pet badger.  _

"Pet badger? That things their pet?!"

            "Shut up and eavesdrop!"

_My parents just got back; they're rather happy because they managed to find the soup ingredients they were looking for. Actually, this'll probably be one of the better meals we've seen in years._

"Have they ever heard of the food cupboard?"  
  
            "They won't help because Remus is a werewolf."

            Severus raised an eyebrow. "What the hell? Wow, the levels of prejudice you overlook daily."  
  
            Holly shrugged. "It's part of the Ministry's way of keeping tabs on the lycanthrope population."  
  
            "That's their amazing plan to eradicate werewolves? Starvation? They could just eat little kids! … or ugly people!"  
  
            It took Severus several moments to realize he was rather ugly and, in fact, had nearly been eaten by said werewolf. He glanced back down at the parchment to find Remus had written quite a bit more.

_My Aunt Ruth's new husband, Julio, is here. He's kind of amusing. Last night he kept screaming 'It rubs the lotion on its skin when it is told!' at me repeatedly. I think he was a little tipsy, though. _

_Hope things are great at Hogwarts. Lily stayed for the break, didn't she? Oh, ho, the mistletoe, hung where you can see…somebody waits for you – kiss'er once for me!  
  
Kidding, kidding. But go ahead and kiss her anyway, thought you might want to wear a cup or something. _

            "Remus!" came the voice of his mother from the kitchen. "Git in here! Skin us up this'ere warthog we found in the sewer!"  
  
_Well, I have to go. My parents need help setting the table. _

_  
Once again, Happy Christmas!_

_-Moony_

Severus blinked. If that wasn't a sugar-coated letter he didn't know what was. For a moment he wondered if Remus' friends were all blissfully unaware that he lived in a shack with hillbilly relatives. _Sure, Potter. Save Black from his oh-so-terrible wealthy, well-known and respected family, but might as well let Lupin rot in a shack. _

            Remus shoved the book and the letters from his lap, rising to his feet and slinking towards the kitchen with a look of obvious grim dread. Severus stared after him, eyebrows raised.

            "Please tell me we're not follo—"  
            

            He broke off as Holly threw herself on his shoulder sobbing.   
  
            "It's so sad!" she choked out. Severus stared for a moment before awkwardly patting her head.

            "Er…yes."

            Holly sniffed, removed her face from his shoulder just in time to see Remus bolt from the kitchen. Chasing after him and breaking the laws of soccer mom's everywhere, was the eldest of Remus' cousins once more – brandishing a large shotgun.

            "I'S GUNNA CUT 'CHOO UP AND GUT'CHOO LIKE A FISH!" called the boy. 

            "You… have a gun…" Remus pointed out, arching an eyebrow. The cousin glared and shoved the barrel of the gun to Remus' chest.  
              
            "Shaddap!"  
  


            "Why is Remus' family so homicidal?" Severus inquired mildly. "Do they really want to kill of the only mildly-intelligent member of their bloodline?"

            Holly buried her face in Severus' chest, proclaiming it was too horrible to watch.  
  
            It was pretty strange, actually, watching a lanky seventeen year old be cornered by a rifle-weilding ten year old. The werewolf recoiled from the homicidal maniacal cousin, flattening himself against the corner of the wall.  
  
            "Johnny…" Remus said slowly, the faintest hint of panic in his voice, "You could hurt someone with that. …Namely me. … Put the gun down." 

            "I's gonna shoot you, boi!"  
  
            Remus gulped and paled considerably. Severus stared incredulously at the pair.  
  
            "What the fuck? Why would the parents of a werewolf keep a rifle with silver bullets located in a place where Johnny the homicidal maniac can get at it? In fact, why would they have a gun with silver bullets at all?"  
  
            Holly sobbed loudly in response.

            "Johnny…" Remus began once more, eyes downward and fixed on the muzzle of the gun. "I know forgiveness is out of the question.  I just ask for what we all ask of the people we respect- That the thought of me does not compel you to violent spasms of projectile vomiting."*

            Johnny responded by cackling and pulling the trigger. Holly, who'd dared to look just at this moment, instantly buried her face again with a loud sob. Remus' entire body tensed and he closed his eyes. Even Severus found himself wincing against his will.

            Luckily enough, however, Remus was not suddenly shot through the heart with a silver bullet. It took him a second or two to realize the lack of excruciating pain and/or death generally meant he was still alive and he opened his eyes again.  
  
            Johnny looked horrified.  
  


            "Shit! Only one bullet?! And I used it on somebody else?! Damn! Oh damn!"*

            Remus stared at him oddly, regaining some of his usual sickly colour.   
  
            "JOHNNY!" called the voice of Aunt Ruth from another room in the small house. "YER FAVORITE STORIES IS ON THE TELLEEVISHUN!" 

            Johnny scrambled away off to the room, holding the gun still. "I'LL BE THERE FASTER 'N A JACKRABBIT!"  
  
            The rest of the Lupin clan scurried from their various spots to pile into the room with the postage-stamp sized television, apart from, of course, Remus. The werewolf was now sitting in the corner once again, hugging his knees to his chest.   
  
            "Happy Christmas," he muttered quietly, most certainly to himself as he was unaware that one Severus Snape was in the room and had heard the mumbled comment. It was doubtful even Holly heard it over her own sobbing. The next second, however, she stuck one hand into the air and snapped her fingers.

--

            Severus was back in his bed in the Slytherin Boy's dormitories, quite suddenly. He stared at the ceiling, blinking every so often. It was still confusing as hell what exactly was going on, but he'd given up the idea of sleeping. It just wasn't going to happen.  
  


            Besides, he was sort of unnerved. He was pretty sure that strange, awkward feeling he'd felt towards the end of his 'stay' at the Lupin residence had been … _sympathy. _

--

  
Author's Note: I'll try and get the last chapter up before Christmas – not that anyone reads this thing. I'm going to Florida, too, so yeah. Starred quotes in here are from _Johnny the Homicidal Maniac by Jhonen Vasquez. _


End file.
